


Fortunate Son

by EerieLight



Category: RWBY
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, During Canon, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:28:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23136937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EerieLight/pseuds/EerieLight
Summary: When everything you touch turns to ash it can be hard to get close to people.Some people are born lucky, not Qrow.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi, Qrow Branwen/James Ironwood
Kudos: 14





	Fortunate Son

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic! Qrow deserves happiness. This won't be it.

When everything you touch turns to ash it can be hard to get close to people. Yet here Qrow has ended up. Hands hovering over horrible red. Tears collecting in red eyes and he turns his face to the crimson of the rising sun. A cry breaking through the wind over the stark white tundra.

Some people are born lucky, not Qrow.

* * *

Another day another shady secret meeting with the green-haired headmaster. Qrow perched on a rock looking out over the water. The waves crashed violently against the cliff as the setting sun reflects off the water’s surface. A low hum that he could only hear in this form. _Oh good, the soldier’s here_. His feathers ruffled before flapping his wings and taking off for Ozpin’s office. The lone Atlas ship appeared over the horizon behind him.

~

Qrow wasn’t fond of the idea of meeting with some military dog from _Atlas_. But he had to trust that Ozpin knew what he was doing. Qrow leaned against the window, watching the door and shifting anxiously every few seconds.

“James graduated top of his class at Atlas Academy, has achieved inter-kingdom renown for his combat abilities, rapidly climbed the ranks of the Atlas military and overall has shown himself to be capable, level-headed, and driven.”

“Good for him.”

Oz laughed. It was a sound that Qrow had grown to know well as a student here. The kind but wise headmaster who’d taken him under his wing, readied him for success, given him everything. It hurt to think about, yet Qrow knew he owed this man everything, so he trusted him with everything he had. Trusted him enough to let him…

The door opened. Qrow sized up the man before him: roughly his own age, that is, in his late twenties. He was taller than Qrow, broader shoulders. Qrow bit the inside of his cheek.

“James, it’s good to see you again,” Ozpin smiled and rose from his desk, extending his hand for the soldier to shake.

“Ozpin, the feeling is mutual. What was it you wanted to discuss?” James’ eyes flicker over to where Qrow was leaning, then back to Ozpin.

“Welcome to Vale soldier boy” Qrow gave him his best smile as _James_ stared at him incredulously.

“I… beg your pardon?”

“Ah, yes. James Ironwood, this is Qrow Branwen, one of my most trusted operatives,” Oz turned to Qrow, “he and I have a lot to tell you.”

The evening went on and turned to night. Ozpin told James about the maidens first and called Octavia in to prove it. James looked like he might pass out. Oz then started in on Salem, the evil sorceress bent on destroying all of Remnant with her grimm army. James looked like he might be sick.

“This is a lot to learn in one night and I regret that I couldn’t tell you over a longer period of time but,” Oz stood and walked toward the window. James followed. They stood next to Qrow gazing out of the tower. “ I fear that she’s planning something.” Oz turned back and paced in the other direction, “I need you and Qrow to tell me what.”

“What?” Qrow was shocked. _Does he not think I can do a simple recon on my own?_

“Not quite so literally Qrow,” Oz gave him a devilish grin so brief that Qrow wondered if he’d imagined it. Oz turned to Ironwood “will you accept? I’ve already received approval to use your skills from your commanding officer.”

“Of course, sir.”

 ** _Gods_** _this guy._ Qrow groaned inwardly.

~

When Qrow and James were dismissed from Ozpin’s office Qrow was startled by the larger man turning to him. Now that James was standing closer Qrow could see outlines of muscle through his uniform. He swallowed and quickly looked up into James’ eyes when he realized he was staring. James was smirking but his ears were also turning a light shade of pink. Qrow blushed deep red. James extended his hand for Qrow to shake. Qrow did begrudgingly.

“I thought I’d formally introduce myself. I’m James Ironwood. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Y-yeah. Qrow… Branwen. Qrow Branwen that is,” Qrow cleared his throat desperately and tried his best to look annoyed. _This man is gorgeous._ The handshake ended.

“I take it you aren’t too fond of military then?” James asked coolly. Qrow regained his composure. _Why not mess with him a little._

“Hey, who doesn’t like a man in uniform,” Qrow put his hands up as though to surrender, smirked at James who looked rather confused, and turned and walked away, putting his hand behind his head as he did.

~

Qrow left the building quickly, cursing under his breath as he went. He transformed as soon as he made it outside and disappeared into the city. The wind fought against him. _A storm’s coming in._ He flew to the balcony of his hotel room and transformed back. He kicked his shoes off and reached for the bottle on his bedside table. Silently he sat in the still of the night, listening to the occasional sound from the street below. He fumed. _A fucking partner. And an Atlas military man at that._ Slowly he grew drunker. _At least he’s easy on the eyes._ Qrow laughed at himself for that one. He had a type. Maybe it wasn’t James’ fault, Qrow had heard that you realy don’t have much of a choice over in Atlas. Either join the military or live the unsteady life of a hunter down in Mantle. Still, a soldier. Qrow sighed and his thoughts traveled to a time when he didn’t mind working with other’s, when things seemed easy and he always knew someone had his back. _Fuck her. Fuck her for leaving and fuck me for caring that she left._ The bottle was empty. He threw it at a corner of the room, it shattered. He smiled at his work and threw himself onto the mattress. Sleep at last.


End file.
